


Anthea

by WriteNow



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-15 13:04:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19296328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteNow/pseuds/WriteNow
Summary: Mycroft Holmes needs a new assistant, someone who can match his intellect and knows how to keep their mouth shut. While glancing over MI5 aptitude test results he spots a new recruit who’s scores soar above the rest, Anthea Simpson. Anthea and Mycroft get along immediately, and she soon becomes his personal assistant and only friend.





	1. Recruitment (Introduction)

“You know what, Mycroft, I quit! You can find yourself another secretary to boss around and play mind games with,” Sarah Jones shouted, slinging her handbag over her shoulder and storming out of Mycroft Holmes’s ornately decorated office.

 

Mycroft half stood up but sat down again. Sarah was right. He could easily find another personal assistant and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself trying to beg Sarah to return. Sarah had always been slightly disappointing. The coffee was always slightly cold, the post was always slightly late, his requests were always carried out slightly reluctantly. He needed to be getting rid of her anyway. He was really doing himself a favour. She was too opinionated.

 

Unfortunately, that meant that Mycroft needed to find himself another assistant and he had to sort out the issue of the Foreign Secretary himself. Mycroft needed intelligence in his next secretary and that meant he had to look outside the government, he needed to look to MI5. He went on the MI5 website, signed in with his high security clearance login and looked at the aptitude test results. At the top of the list was Anthea Simpson. She was at the top of the list by quite some way. She had excellent reasoning skills, mathematical capabilities and verbal talent. She could be very good.

 

Mycroft got another one of his secretaries to put in a few calls with MI5. It was unlikely that they would want to give up one of their best recruits but if Mycroft wants then Mycroft gets. He turned his computer off and lay back in his leather chair. Mycroft’s life was far from perfect.

 

* * *

 

Anthea Simpson was sat in an empty room in M15 HQ. She had been called in by one of her supervisors but no one had told her why. She hadn’t done anything wrong, at least she didn’t think so. She had only been in the compound for a week and that was only doing familiarisation tours and other unimportant necessities. She hadn’t even been given the chance to do anything wrong. She wondered why whoever was coming was taking so long to arrive. She had been told the meeting was urgent. If they wanted to meet at 7:52 they shouldn’t have told her to come at 7:45, she had valuable things she could be doing. 

 

A few minutes later, some people in suits came in. Most of them, she didn’t know, but one of them she instantly recognised as the head of MI5. He stopped and held the door open for the man who came in last. The man who everyone in the room seemed to answer to. But she had no idea who he was. He was wearing an expensive grey suit and carried a black umbrella with him. It hadn’t rained all day and wasn’t scheduled to. The man stared at her as he came in, judging her. He looked mildly annoyed but not with her. One thing was for sure, something big was on the horizon.

 

* * *

 

 

“Anthea...Simpson,” the umbrella man announced, purposefully looking down at his paper to show that he was far too important to learn her full name. Anthea had seen this type before.

 

”Yes. And you are?” she asked.

 

”Interested in employing you,” the umbrella man finished.

 

The MI5 head jumped in. “What do you know about Mycroft Holmes, Anthea?” he asked. Anthea noticed a couple of the other men’s heads turn in the direction of the umbrella man.

 

”Nothing, whatsoever. Except that he is very rich, has a high power job in London, always carries his umbrella around with him, even when it’s not scheduled to rain and that he is currently sitting in this very room with us and is interested in employing me.” she turned to the umbrella man. “Aren’t you, Mycroft?”

 

The other men were obviously impressed, apart from Mycroft. He continued staring at her, then looked down at his notes. “You’re very quick, aren’t you, Miss Simpson. Very quick indeed. In fact, you scored 100% in all of you initiation tests. You would be a natural first pick for any job.”

 

”But?”

 

”But, I have heard from people here that you can be difficult to work with. Is that correct?”

 

”Yes. For them. I work the way I work. I don’t unnecessarily try to please people, I don’t try to soften blows or butter people up or any of that. I treat people with respect but they have to earn it. But I tell you something, Mycroft Holmes. If you want a job done then I’ll do it, no questions asked, and it will be done very well.”

 

”Good. Well then I’m happy to hire you.”

 

”For what?”

 

“Personal assistant to the most powerful man in the British government and any other government you can think of. £100, 000 per year. You’re paid to keep your mouth shut. This isn’t a business for little children. But, for someone like you, I think it could work very nicely. Work starts immediately. I’m sure someone here will give you the details.”

 

”That’s if I’m taking it.”

 

Mycroft looked confused. “Of course, you’re taking it. It’s the job opportunities of a lifetime. Why would you not take it?”

 

”I’m nobody’s secretary.”

 

”Anthea, can’t you see what you’re being given,” the head of MI5 butted in. “You’re being a very silly little girl. I told you she was difficult to work with Mycroft, I have many other perfect candidates for you.”

 

”Excuse me, but do you think that’s an appropriate comment for the workplace,” Mycroft interrupted. “Anthea, please ignore him. You will be my personal assistant, not my equal, but the closest thing to it. And nobody will speak to you like that,” he said, purposefully shooting a glance at the head of M15.

 

”Alright, Mr Holmes, you’ve impressed me. I’ll work for you, but if I don’t like it, I can leave at any time. Deal?”

 

”Of course. Well, I shall take my leave from you. See you in my office tomorrow morning, 8 o clock. I’m sure we have many happy years of working together awaiting us in the future.” Mycroft left, being followed by a few men.

 

A woman handed Anthea some forms. ”Well done. This is the job opportunity of a lifetime.”

 

”Thank you. I’m ready for it.”


	2. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Anthea's first day working for Mycroft Holmes. How will she get on? Will she get fired on the first day? Will her and Mycroft work well together? And what is the mysterious task in Anthea's schedule called 'Monitoring'?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much longer than the introduction. Please subscribe, comment and leave kudos. Enjoy!

It was 6:30 am and Anthea Simpson’s alarm went off. She groaned, then remembered. It was her first day working for Mycroft Holmes. And she needed to get a move on. The weary woman looked up at her wardrobe and glanced at the clothes left out. She sighed and changed out of her pyjamas. She had spent quite a long time choosing the right outfit. Anthea was always conscious of how people perceived her. She shrugged her black, knee length dress, then adjusted the belt. This was the job of a lifetime and so she needed to make a good impression, but she didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. She looked at herself in the mirror. Not too bad. Her belt matched her eyeshadow. She needed to be stylish yet professional, and she felt like her choice of dress would achieve both of those points. Finally, she pulled on her tights and stepped into her new shoes. They were black with purple heels. Purple was her favourite colour and Anthea’s outfit made her feel comfortable, and ready to work.

 

She packed her bag with the usual stuff: paper, pens, phone, folders, make up bag, a couple of photos for her desk and her tablet. Now that she was all dressed, she needed something to eat. She checked her phone and saw that she was running late. She wondered if there were any coffee places beside Mycroft’s office. Everything would probably be quite expensive round there. It was a posh area of London. She decided she would grab a coffee and a pastry in the shop beside the train station and then eat it on the tube. The young woman grabbed her bag and dashed to the station.

 

Twenty minutes later and Anthea was waiting in the queue for the barriers at the tube station, bag and Oyster card in one hand, ready to tap on the reader, drink and croissant in the other. Two of the barriers were broken and everyone seemed to be taking as long as physically possible to get through the gates. Finally, she reached the gates and tapped through, quickly. The next train was just arriving. It was packed. Anthea wondered if she should wait 5 minutes for the train after or get on the busy one. She didn’t want to take any chances, so she squeezed her way on to the train. The coffee and croissant would have to wait until later.

 

6 stops later and Anthea had arrived. She pushed her way through the crowds and made it onto the street. It was 7:51. She still had time. The coffee had gone a bit cold but she gulped it down and chucked the cup in a bin as she passed by. 7:54, and the building was in sight. This was the very definition of ‘on time’. She reached the building and rung the doorbell. An elderly woman answered.

 

“Hello, I’m Anthea Simpson, Mycroft Holmes’s new personal assistant.”

 

“Ah, yes, we’ve been expecting you. Please come to reception. We have a few forms that you need to fill out.” The woman led Anthea through to the reception area and handed her a folder with a few forms. It began with normal forms. Names, phone numbers, qualifications. Then came the stranger forms. Of course, Anthea had filled in forms like this for MI5. She had to promise not to leak any information. She couldn’t tell anyone what her job was. She couldn’t talk to anyone about her work. Not even her family. But that was no different than usual.

 

She filled in the forms and handed them back. Before she could sit down again, she was hurried through security checks. It made sense that a government building would have some security, but Anthea thought that Mycroft’s staff were a bit over the top. She had a physical search, then a machine search, then another physical search and then a final machine search. It was much more secure than any airport she had ever been in before and maybe even more secure than MI5. Whatever Mycroft did, it must have been serious business.

 

After the security check, Anthea was taken to another room, where she was issued with a security pass, a set of keys to Mycroft’s office and was given some paperwork. The paperwork was mainly information leaflets and schedules. It explained more about who Mycroft was, what the exact demands for her job were, and how much she would be getting paid. She would be getting paid a lot. Soon, she would be able to take a taxi to work, and not have to get the tube. She would be able to buy nicer clothes, get a new phone, and maybe buy a house in the city, though that would happen a few years down the line. Anthea was about to sit down and read more about her schedule when she was led to Mycroft’s office.

 

The building was tall, and Anthea expected to be taken up the huge staircase that lay ahead, but instead, she was led to a lift that was off to the side of a corridor. It was quite well hidden. The man who was leading her to Mycroft’s office took his security pass and tapped it to a reader. The lift doors pinged open and they stepped inside. There were buttons from 1-15 and another button, beside the emergency and alarm buttons, that read ‘M’. The man pressed it and the doors closed. The lift descended, slowly. Anthea was surprised. She didn’t know many people who would rather work underground than in an office on the 15th floor. Still, Mycroft Holmes didn’t seem like the average person.

 

The décor downstairs was dark and moody. The walls were black and made from marble, but the floor was lined with strips of purple, as if they it was guiding people to the emergency exit of an aeroplane. Anthea approved of the colour scheme. Maybe Mycroft liked purple too? The man lead Anthea down the corridor to the second last room. “This is your office. Mycroft’s office is beside you but there is a direct passage between the rooms inside your office. “I’ll leave you to get settled. Remember, we have incredibly high standards in this building. Please don’t let our company down, otherwise your employment will be terminated immediately,” the man said, in a formal yet chilling tone.

 

He turned and walked away. Anthea wondered if he was an exception or if everyone here was going to be a mechanical robot, only capable of warning and telling people off. If so, this was going to be a very long year. “Thank you. Have a lovely day,” she said to him, slightly sarcastically. He turned around for a second. Anthea could see him working out if she was being genuine. It was clear they didn’t have sarcasm in this building.

 

“You too,” he said, smiling slightly. Anthea had accidentally made a friend. She made a mental note to not use any more sarcasm on the staff.

 

Now was the moment of truth. Anthea tapped her security pass to the reader by her door and slowly turned the door handle. It clicked open.

 

The room was massive. Absolutely huge. It felt more like a living room or a bedroom to an office. The walls were purple. There was a huge window that seemed to be showing a live picture of the London skyline. There were black sofas that looked soft and comfortable. The sofas had little purple cushions dotted on them. There was a massive flat screen tv in front of the sofas and a couple of coffee tables. She wished she could take photos and maybe even bring her family here but she new that would be a breach of her contract and the last thing she wanted to do was lose this job. Off to the side of the room there was a handle that lead to another room. She wondered if that lead to Mycroft’s office, but then saw the real door that lead to Mycroft’s office. The door to Mycroft’s office had a security reader on it and was labelled ‘Mycroft Holmes’s Office’. The door was bright red, the only splash of colour in the room. Anthea didn’t want to go in there just yet, so she looked back to the other door. She slowly pushed the handle and inched the door open, in case she wasn’t supposed to be in there.

 

When she saw the contents of the room, she was relieved for two reasons. Firstly, it was definitely not a room that was off limits. Secondly, she really needed a pee.

 

The room was a luxurious en-suite bathroom. She closed the door behind her and locked it, which was unnecessary as, as far as she knew, she was the only person who had the key to the room. She did the toilet, washed her hands, and then stared at herself in the mirror for a few minutes. She hadn’t even explored the whole room yet and it was already far too much to handle. She started breathing heavily. This was such a huge job. It was such a huge responsibility. What would happen if she messed up? She calmed herself. She wouldn’t mess up. She could handle herself. She could do anything. She nodded to herself. She could do this.

 

Anthea unlocked the bathroom door and stepped back into her ‘office’. This was nothing like any office she had ever been in before in her entire life. It wasn’t even like any office she had ever seen on the tv. And she had watched a lot of tv. She looked to other end of the office, where her desk was. Again, her desk was massive. It had pen holders, drawers, and lots of stationery. It even had a computer! There was also a telephone that seemed to be linked to the computer. There was something else on the desk. Anthea’s bag. She must have left it somewhere. It was a miracle it got back to her. She felt so stupid for leaving it behind. She didn’t even know it was missing. She was so glad Mycroft didn’t know. Imagine getting fired on your first day! Anthea could imagine it now. There was something taped to her bag. A piece of paper. Anthea read it:

 

Miss Simpson,

 

You left this in reception. It’s good to see you have prepared but you might find that your belongings are of more use to you when they are about your person. I hope this doesn’t happen again. I hope you find your office adequate. I would like to see you at 10 o clock. I look forward to many more happy years of working with you

 

Mycroft

 

So, Mycroft had found her bag. Anthea felt embarrassed. At least he didn’t sound angry. She wouldn’t want to disappoint the person who had given her all of this.

 

Time to get to work.

 

She sat down in her chair by her desk and took out the information leaflets she was given earlier. She checked her schedule. She had to be at work from 8 in the morning, until 8 at night. Those were longer hours than she’d ever had before. On the other hand, some days she had large periods of free time, so she didn’t have to work for the whole day. On the whole, the job seemed very good. Yes, there were some boring tasks like checking post, answering phone calls and coming to meetings, but there were also some much more interesting tasks, such as formal dinners, visits from family and an appointment that happened for an hour every day, with Mycroft, called ‘Monitoring’. Currently, Anthea was scheduled to be doing ‘Organisation for Day and Morning Duties’. She consulted another leaflet to find out exactly what her morning duties were and what organisation needed to be done.

 

Morning duties were: Checking emails, answering missed calls, brining Mycroft his tea, putting Mycroft’s files on his desk and generally making sure that nothing happened overnight, and dealing with anything that did. She started at the top of the list with checking her emails. She opened up her computer. It had already been set up with her schedule and all of her personal details had been filled in, meaning she could access her work emails. She would figure out how to link it up to her home email account later. She refreshed the page and 4 new emails popped into her inbox. The first was about setting up her computer, it explained how and when all of the apps should be used. The second was a warning/welcoming email. It was similar to what the man who led her to her office had said. ‘Welcome to the company. Don’t mess up.’ She had heard enough of that already today and so deleted the email.

 

The two remaining emails seemed to be the kind of emails she would be receiving from now on. They didn’t have any greetings or niceties, they were informative and to the point. The first of the two emails stated that the car Mycroft was planning to take to 10 Downing Street had broken down and a replacement had to be ordered, meaning that Mycroft would be 10 minutes late for his meeting with the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister had already been informed, it was Anthea’s job to tell Mycroft. The second email said that Sir James Hall wouldn’t be able to attend the gala that Mycroft was going to in the evening. It seemed that James was a close friend of Mycroft and there would be no doubt that he would be upset. Again, it was Anthea’s job to tell Mycroft. Lucky her.

 

She looked at the clock at the bottom of her computer screen. It was 9:07. In less than an hour she would be having her first proper meeting with Mycroft. She put that though aside and continued with her morning duties. Now the emails had been dealt with, she had to check for missed calls. The phone was linked up to the computer so she could electronically check her voicemail. 1 new message. She listened to the recording. It seemed to be from Mycroft’s mother. His parents were in town and wanting to meet up with him. His parents seemed to love him very much so Anthea thought he must be pleased they were coming to see him. She was a bit surprised that his parents had contacted him through his assistant and not just phoned him up but it wasn’t really her place to judge. Anthea only met up with her parents a few times each year. She had a brother and a sister whom her parents much preferred and Anthea was always left out.

 

Next on the list involved Anthea visiting Mycroft. Before she could do anything else, a buzzer sounded and a red light came on over the door. Her computer flashed up a live picture showing outside her office door. There was a man standing with a cup of tea on an elegantly decorated tray. Anthea went to the door and answered it.

 

“Miss Simpson. I have Mr Holmes’s morning tea,” he said.

 

“Thank you,” Anthea replied, taking the tray from the man and closing the door again. She sat the tray down on her desk and looked at her list again. Next was bringing Mycroft his tea and his files. She picked up the tray and went to the door separating her office and his. She wasn’t sure if she needed to knock but decided against it because she didn’t have the spare hand. She leant against the door in a not very elegant manner, so that her security pass touched the sensor and the door opened. She pushed it open and went into Mycroft’s office.

 

It was like a dark dungeon. The walls were painted grey, the chairs and tables were black. The only coloured areas were the portraits on the walls and the two lights illuminating the centrepiece of the room: Mycroft’s desk. Mycroft was sat at his desk. He didn’t look up when she entered. She didn’t know whether to say anything or just put the tray down and leave. She placed the tray on his desk, beside the paper he was working at and said, “Your tea, Mr Holmes.”

 

Then, she turned around and left. Mycroft looked up when she spoke, surprised. She must have gotten it wrong. They must not usually speak. Anthea was worried that he would tell her off, but instead he simply said, “Thank you.”

 

Anthea returned to her office to get Mycroft’s morning files. They had been left in a nice neat pile on her desk. Again, the went into his office, though with much less difficulty opening the door this time, and placed the files on his desk, beside the untouched tea. “Here are your files,” she said, and he looked up again.

 

“Thank you, Anthea,” he said, and looked back down again. She wondered if she should give him the messages now or wait until later, when they had their meeting. She figured it could wait. He looked busy and she didn’t want to disturb him again. Besides, her schedule didn’t include ‘Give Mycroft Messages,’ that was scheduled into the ‘Daily Briefing’ at 10 o clock. She still had half an hour before the meeting and so she fiddled with her computer for a bit and managed to link her mobile phone to it. That meant she could check her home texts, emails and calls, while at work. After doing that, she still had a spare 15 minutes, so she decided to do some more reading on what exactly the ‘Daily Briefing’ entailed. Was he briefing her or was she briefing him?

 

The information documents said that they were going to talk over the day’s schedule, pass on messages and prepare for the day. Anthea wrote the messages down, in case she forgot them, then lay back in her chair. She was tired but she enjoyed the work. In a few minutes, she would be back in Mycroft’s office and she wouldn’t emerge until 11:30, hopefully alive.

 

At 9:56 she put some paper in a folder, along with her information documents, schedule and the messages she wrote down earlier. Then, she took a couple of pens and put them in her pocket. She didn’t want to be too early, but she also wanted to be on time. She loitered by the door for a few minutes and at 10 o clock exactly, she opened the door and stepped into Mycroft’s office.

 

Mycroft was already sat at a meeting table when Anthea came in. There was one other chair at the table, directly opposite him, which Anthea sat down in. She put her folder and pens on the table. Mycroft studied her for a few seconds and then spoke. “Good morning, Miss Simpson. As you’ve never been to one of these meeting before, I’ll talk you through how it works. You give me any messages, then we talk through the schedule of the day. Understand?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So, were there any messages?”

 

“One from your mother. Her and your father are visiting and they want to meet up with you.” Mycroft groaned. “Are you not looking forward to that?” Anthea asked.

 

“I don’t think it’s any of your business,” Mycroft replied. “But, no, I’m not looking forward to it. My parents have minds the size of goldfish. I’ll have to take them to dinner and talk to them and listen to boring stories about lost lottery tickets and what Barbara said to Julie on Thursday and who was eliminated from Big Brother,” he spat the words.

 

“Why don’t you do something with them that you’ll enjoy? Something where you don’t have to talk much?”

 

“What would you suggest?”

 

Anthea thought for a moment. “You could take them to a show?”

 

“That’s a good idea, apart from one tiny flaw. I don’t like shows.”

 

“Plays? Films? Musicals?”

 

“No.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I spend my spare time bettering my mind, not indulging it in useless activities.”

 

“Suit yourself. I love musicals.”

 

“I’ll need you to book a reservation for tomorrow night. Table for 4 in the Smith and Wollensky, please.”

 

“Sure thing. But, who’s the fourth person?”

 

“My brother, Sherlock.”

 

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

 

“Yes. Sherlock is a detective.” Mycroft said the word delicately, as if he didn’t approve. “He hasn’t had any big cases yet but I’m sure his time will come. He’s certainly sure his time will come.”

 

“Your parents must be proud that you have such an important job. You must be the star of the family.”

 

“I don’t really see my parents much, thankfully. Sherlock could have had this kind of job. He’s been offered it multiple times, but he always says no. Says he prefers ‘legwork’, whatever that means”.

 

There was silence for a few seconds. “There were two other messages for you. Firstly, your car’s going to be 10 minutes late for your meeting with the Prime Minister. There was some kind of scheduling mess up so you’ve been delayed a bit. Secondly, Sir James Hall can’t come to the dinner tonight, unfortunately.”

 

“I know. James has already informed me, but thank you. That reminds me, I’m going to have a spare ticket, if you would like to come with me. I don’t see any point in wasting James’s place. This is the event of the month. It could be very useful to have you networking with society.”

 

“Thank you. I would love to come,” Anthea replied. She waited for a few seconds. “Will it be very fancy?” She didn’t have any expensive evening dresses and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of everyone.

 

“It will indeed be ‘very fancy’. Very, very fancy. Will that be a problem?”

 

“No.” Anthea responded, quickly. Mycroft could sense what was wrong.

 

“As this is a work event, I could see a strong case for your dress being paid for by the company.”

 

Anthea breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, Mr Holmes.”

 

“Not a problem. I’ll get someone to transfer money to your account. I trust £100 will be enough?”

 

“Plenty. Thank you. What time does the event begin?”

 

“8 o clock but I’ll send a car for you at half past 7. No need to take the tube.”

 

Anthea was glad, but surprised that Mycroft knew she took the tube. Maybe he saw her Oyster card? Maybe she looked like the kind of person who couldn’t afford a taxi? Maybe he had been watching her?

 

“Now, I believe we should discuss today’s schedule.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“After this meeting, you have some spare time. I’m going through files in my office. You’ve seen the size of the pile. It should take me a few hours.”

 

“Do you need any help?”

 

“It’s not part of your contract.”

 

“I know, but I’ll still help you if you want. For free. It’s the least I can do, what with you sorting out my dress problem for me.”

 

“Thank you,” Mycroft spoke the words hesitantly. He clearly wasn’t used to saying them. “That would be very useful. If you read through some of the files, we could be finished in half the time.”

 

“Great. What’s next in the schedule?”

 

“Lunch. One of the staff will bring it to your office. Of course, you can ask them not to, if you would rather buy some yourself, but the meal is included with your job. It’s usually very nice.”

 

“I think I’ll take the free meal. What’s after lunch?”

 

“Monitoring. There are certain people I like to keep an eye on. Make sure they aren’t up to anything. My brother, my sister, certain criminal networks and certain criminals.”

 

“Interesting. You have a sister?”

 

“Yes,” Mycroft looked unsure, like he didn’t want to talk about it. “Euros is incarcerated in Sherrinford, a secure prison on an island. I need to make sure she stays that way. She’s even cleverer than me.”

 

“And after monitoring?”

 

“Evening tasks. Pretty similar to your morning tasks. Calls, emails, files, messages. When you’ve finished them, you’re free for another hour and a half. You’ll want to go home and get ready for the dinner. At 7:30 the car will arrive. Please don’t be late. It does nothing for your reputation.”

 

“I won’t be late.”

 

“Good. If you don’t have any events in the evening, the dinner service comes to your office at half past 7. The only other tasks you might have would be answering calls or emails. People might give you messages to pass on to me. Unless I’m in a meeting, you can come into my room to give me a message, at any time. Do you have any question?”

 

“No, thank you. I think I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Good. We’re a bit ahead of schedule. Shall we go through the files?”

 

“Yes. Let’s.”

 

Mycroft sat a large pile of files down on the desk they were sitting at. They each picked up a file and began reading.


End file.
